Monday, December 10, 2012

Texting

Text messages seem like such a simple thing but there's a lot to think about when examining them. Much is lost when human communication is reduced to short written messages. There's no tone, volume, facial expressions, body language, or much of anything else that depicts the mood or intention of a person. Emoticons or smileys can help. Use the tongue sticking out one to indicate that something isn't serious or you're just messing with the other person. Happy and sad or smiling and frowning have obvious uses. Emoticons do bring some of their own mysteries. What does the winking face truly mean? How many different feelings can it express? When you use it, does the other person interpret it the same way? Maybe your wink of reassurance has become a wink of creepiness.

Basic sentences are also up for interpretation. Why don't you play poker with a cat? It's a joke. Does the other person know? It could sound like I'm telling them to play poker with a cat. It's a stupid demand but there's none of the stifled giggling that often accompanies the asking of a joke. The answer to the joke is that he might be a cheetah. It's probably all clear at that point.

Worse than vagueness are the technical issues with texts. They can sometimes take several minutes to get from one phone to the other. A text sent at 8:31 PM might not arrive until 8:39 PM. Not only does this significantly slow a conversation, it can cause all sorts of problems with the receiver of the slow messages responding to earlier messages before all of the context has arrived. Phone or network issues can completely stop a phone from getting texts. I went through this torture session myself for three days before I found out it something was wrong on my phone.

Text messages are useful because they're convenient. I can type a couple sentences and press "send" in less time than it would take for the recipient to pick up the phone if I called. It's also good for avoiding having to speak with a non-stop yakker who won't let you go for the next three hours. I'll keep using them because of their convenience. Emails are too long and formal. Instant messaging software either ties me to a computer or is almost the same thing if I use it on my phone. Phone calls require both parties to be ready and willing to talk. Texts are quick, easy, and I can use them from anywhere I get cell phone service.

Waiting... (Final Version)

My heart is speeding up. Sweat slowly runs down my forehead. The worry that I feel is overwhelming. Through the eyes of another, I would appear fine. I'm not in the middle of a hectic battle or sliding off the road after taking a corner too quickly. I'm standing at the instructor's podium, waiting for him to give me my graded assignments from the four week long Intro to Semiconductor Manufacturing class that ended last Wednesday.

What if I didn't do well on the assignments? Maybe I ended up with a D in the class. Even worse, what if I failed? The money I spent on tuition and gas would be wasted. The hours spent driving and sitting in class wouldn't have been of much use. I probably didn't learn enough to make it worthwhile. There's no way I could breeze through the class on my second try if I did so badly the first time. What about classes that require this one as a prerequisite? That includes a significant portion of the Microelectronics Technology classes. These classes aren't offered every term. I may have to alter the entire course of my degree.

No matter my level of confidence, I can never shake the feeling that I'm going to see disastrous results in any class. Quizzes, tests, and exams rarely fail to feel much more difficult than the rest of the work, even when the questions are exactly the same. The instructor found the first of my three assignments. I missed a couple points. I can endure this loss. The second assignment came and I only lost one point. There was no way to fail the class now. But the journal was what I was least sure about. The guidelines were vague, even after asking the instructor about them.

"Your journal is not here."

I don't think the way I felt after hearing this was as strong as it should have been. A third of my grade was on the line.

"Oh, here it is."

That was a relief. And my journal received full points. It turned out to be the easiest assignment in the class. All of the anguish and despair was for nothing. Everything went much better than I had expected. Now I need to keep that up for the next two classes in the series.

Unknown Territory (Final Version)

Throughout my time in elementary school, there was another student who was odd. For this post, I'll call him Joey. He was usually hyperactive and he caused a lot of trouble in class. He wasn't a big fan of rules. My group of friends didn't really accept him but he would sometimes hang around anyway.

A great example of Joey's behavior is the time is hit the teacher with a pencil. It wasn't a stabbing. He used the eraser end. But it was extreme compared to the typical behavior of the students in the class. Over the years, he calmed down a little. He wasn't so bad to be around by fourth grade. It was around this time that he invited me to his house. I'm not completely sure why, but I accepted the offer and went. Going to somebody's house was a big deal for me. I always lived in a rural area, as did many of the other students in my elementary school. It wasn't like a suburban housing development or apartment building where we were all within walking distance of each other. I made few enough trips to friends' houses that I can still remember all of them, especially this one.

When I got inside Joey's house, he turned his radio on to 101 KUFO, the hard rock and metal station that no longer exists. This was the most normal part of my visit. It could be even be called comforting. If I was given control of the radio it's the station I would have chosen. We sat down to play a round of the Pokemon trading card game. All of the cards were Joey's. I didn't bring any of my own. Because of this, he had first choice when building his deck which meant he got all of the good cards. With my weak selection of cards, I engaged Joey in battle. Things didn't look good for me, especially when he started making up rules. I'm pretty sure he specifically arranged his deck rather than shuffling it since I seem to remember him drawing six Bill cards in a row. The rules limit you to four of the same type of card. Bill cards were very useful because they allowed you to draw two cards from your deck and add them to your hand. I lost the game, of course. Confronting him about it seemed pointless since I wasn't any good at the game even when it was played as intended. I wanted to get it over with quickly. I could have said the same thing about the whole event.

I was there for a few hours so I was glad that Joey offered me some food. At least, I was glad until I saw what was available. The menu consisted of strawberry Pop Tarts, strawberry ice cream, and plain waffles. I wasn't angry and I didn't act rudely about the situation but I wasn't feeling too hungry after hearing my options. Joey partially toasted a waffle for me but I wasn't very interested so he ate it. I wonder if better food would have improved his behavior.

I don't regret going to Joey's house. It was a little weird but there was some fun to be had. My friends found it very interesting that I went over there. Their reaction was a mixture of shock and curiosity. Far too much kindness and the lack of alternatives were factors in my choice to go to Joey's house. There was no way I could just say "no" to an offer like this when I was that young. Luckily for me this was the only time I was asked. Joey's father drove me home and Joey came along for the ride. When we arrived at my house, Joey insisted that I borrow his martial arts video game for the Game Boy. I still have it and he never asked to get it back.

Laptop Keyboards (Final Version)

I don't spend a lot of time thinking about laptop keyboards. I don't spend a lot of time thinking about laptops in general. I own one, but it's old, I got it for free, and I don't use it often. The keyboard on it is adequate. I press the keys then letters, numbers, or symbols appear on the screen, assuming there's something running on the computer which reacts when you press keys.

I recently went through the torturous process of helping my sister choose a laptop at Fry's Electronics for the second time. This time, her demands weren't quite as strange. I didn't hear anything about not getting a laptop with a keyboard that didn't have spaces between the keys. I still wasn't looking forward to it. What could it be this time? It has to be yellow with red polka dots? It must have an illuminated logo on the back? No, this time she had a wacky request regarding the buttons on or near the touch pad. They couldn't be one button. Only two separate pieces of plastic would do. It actually doesn't matter but I wouldn't be mentioning this if it was a rational demand. The freedom I had in keyboard choice meant I needed to do a little research. I walked around and poked some keys on all of the different types of keyboards.


The keyboard in the image above is the type on my laptop. It works but I prefer taller keys that move farther when they are pressed as would be found on most desktop keyboards. That would make for a very thick laptop so I can understand why nobody does it. A lot of recent desktop keyboards have shorter, flatter keys just like these types of keyboards. I guess it's supposed to be more "modern" or maybe people were complaining about their keyboards being thicker than their monitors. They could be cheaper to produce.


This is known as the Chiclet keyboard since it resembles pieces of Chiclets gum. Squares with rounded corners, not candy coated and chewy. It's not far off from the Apple keyboard I am typing on right now in CT 235 at PCC Sylvania. It has slightly more rounded corners than the laptop version. The issue with Apple products is that they tend to emphasize rounded corners and shiny things over functionality. The issue with many other companies is that they tend to be influenced by or copy whatever Apple does. My sister's concern about spaces between the keys isn't an issue for me. I have no idea what her problem with that is. What I don't like about the Apple keyboard is how it feels like I'm jamming my fingers into a sheet of metal over and over. There's no cushion in the key movement. The laptop ones are a bit softer. I don't think I'd find my wrist in pain after using them but they're far from optimal.


I don't get this one. I don't know why it exists. It's easily the worst of the bunch. Imagine typing on a cheap calculator except it costs several hundred dollars and you have to do much more than enter equations for a little while. I had to make another trip to Fry's to spend more time with this type of keyboard since I couldn't endure it the first time. It feels closer to the Chiclet keyboard than the "classic" laptop keyboard. Some say it is a Chiclet keyboard since the keys have large gaps between them.

I can't remember what type of keyboard the first computer my sister chose has. I think it was the Chiclet type. The Fry's employee disappeared for quite a while to look for the laptop or whatever it is Fry's employees do when they're supposed to be looking for something. It may be their only chance to take a break from the exhausting task of reading laptop spec sheets to customers. I wandered around for several minutes, covering most of the massive store, and eventually returned to see that the same Fry's guy was doing something else and there was no boxed laptop in the hands of either present family member. After standing around for quite a while, another employee returned from the depths of the store with a computer.

All was well until we arrived at home and started using the laptop. The keyboard was peeling off. There was glue holding the keyboard on and the glue was not functioning properly. This made no sense to me. Why was the keyboard designed like this? Why was the glue on a supposedly new computer not strong enough to do its job?

The next day, my sister returned the first laptop and bought a different one. The new one came in one piece. It didn't have any ridiculous issues such as the battery flaking away like a Butterfinger bar or the sound coming out upside down. My sister was relieved that she didn't have to return another laptop. I was relieved that I didn't have to go shopping with her again. This storm has blown over and I probably won't ever do this much thinking about laptop keyboards again any time soon.


Choosing a Path in Life

How are you supposed to know what to do with your life? Some people manage to find something they're passionate about at an early age. Others, like me, are 24 years old, have spent years in college, and still have no idea. My situation isn't even the worst out there. People twice my age are still trying to figure life out.

I went to Clackamas Community College starting in 2007. Networking and Microcomputer Specialist was my degree of choice. There was little emphasis on being a "microcomputer specialist." It was mostly networking. I didn't put a lot of thought into what I wanted to do. I knew that I liked computers and that I already knew a good amount about building, fixing, and using them. This made a computer related degree seem like a good idea. It wasn't. I never finished the degree. Going through the classes, I slowly realized that it wasn't the thing for me. I'd prefer to leave computers as a hobby and not get deep into the technical aspects of them because those aspects do not interest me at all. I tried and failed to get a relevant job to fulfill the cooperative work experience requirements, all that remains of the degree requirements. I feel like I ran a marathon and fell into a manhole 50 feet from the finish line.

Now I'm at Portland Community College in the Microelectronics Technology program. It's a little more interesting than computer networking. I was attracted to it by the apparently very high possibility of getting a job at Intel or another semiconductor company in the area by the end. The idea that an associate degree was enough to get a real job shocked me. How could two years of college qualify you for anything more than flipping burgers, scrubbing toilets, and a free trial of Amazon Prime?

Classes started well. MT111 was like a review of the basic electronics class I took in high school except there was reference material this time such as a textbook. MT101 and 102 taught me some of the basics of semiconductor manufacturing. I could have saved a lot of time by taking WR121 at Clackamas instead of WR101 but both of them have been relatively enjoyable. Writing classes are usually my leave favorite. The ten ton granite block that broke the camel's back was MT103. I didn't know how waitlists worked when I was signing up for classes. I was on the waitlist for MT103 on campus so I decided to drop it and take it online with a different instructor instead. There was more work to be done in this class than my other four combined. It's a one credit introductory course, like MT101 and 102, which were not very difficult. I started thinking more about how the second year MT instructors were rated on RateMyProfessors.com. Maybe taking a bunch of classes on a complex subject from two guys with average scores under 3/5 wasn't a good idea. If any future classes ended up like MT103 I would only find failure in this program. The thought of getting a real job with this specific associate degree started making more sense.

I don't think I'm cut out for any of the electronics, programming, or networking I've tried to get into. I'm not passionate about them. I haven't shown an aptitude for them. They only seemed like the kind of fields I should enter because they had some relevance to my hobbies or the potential jobs paid well. I know now that I want to get out of the microelectronics program but I'll still be wandering through life, trying to find something I care about.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Unknown Territory

When I was in elementary school, there was another student who was a bit odd. For this post, I'll call him Joey. He was generally hyperactive and it was common for him to cause trouble. He wasn't a big fan of rules. My group of friends didn't really accept him but he would sometimes hang around anyway.

Over the years, Joey calmed down a little. He wasn't so bad to be around at this point. It was around this time that he invited me to his house. I'm not sure why, but I accepted the offer and went.

When I got inside Joey's house, he turned his radio on to 101 KUFO, the hard rock and metal station that no longer exists. We sat down to play a round of the Pokemon trading card game. All of the cards were Joey's. I didn't bring any of my own. Because of this, he had first choice when building his deck which meant he got all of the good cards. With my weak selection of cards, I engaged Joey in battle. Things didn't look good for me, especially when he started making up rules. I'm pretty sure he specifically arranged his deck rather than shuffling it since I seem to remember him drawing six Bill cards in a row. The rules limit you to four of the same type of card. Bill cards were very useful because they allowed you to draw four cards from your deck and add them to your hand. I lost the game, of course.

I was there for a few hours so I was glad that Joey offered me some food. At least, I was glad until I saw what was available. The menu consisted of strawberry Pop Tarts, strawberry ice cream, and plain waffles. I wasn't angry and I didn't act rudely about the situation but I wasn't feeling too hungry after hearing my options. Joey partially toasted a waffle for me but I wasn't very interested so he ate it. I wonder if better food would have improved his behavior.

I don't regret going to Joey's house. It was a little weird but there was some fun to be had. My friends found it very interesting that I went over there. Joey's father drove me home and Joey came along for the ride. When we arrived at my house, Joey insisted that I borrow his martial arts video game for the Game Boy. I still have that game.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Waiting...

My heart is speeding up. Sweat begins to appear on my forehead. The worry that I feel is overwhelming. Through the eyes of another, I would appear fine. I'm not in the middle of a hectic battle or sliding off the road after driving too quickly around a corner. I'm standing at the instructor's podium, waiting for him to give me my graded assignments from the four week long class that ended last Wednesday.

What if I didn't do well on the assignments? Maybe I ended up with a D in the class. Even worse, what if I failed? The money I spent on tuition and gas would be wasted. The hours spent driving and sitting in class wouldn't have been of much use. I probably didn't learn enough to make it worthwhile. There's no way I could breeze through the class on my second try if I did so badly the first time. What about classes that require this one as a prerequisite? I may have to alter the entire course of my degree.

No matter my level of confidence, I can never shake the feeling that I'm going to see disastrous results in any class. Quizzes, tests, and exams rarely fail to feel much more difficult than the rest of the work, even when the questions are exactly the same. The instructor found the first of my three assignments. I missed a couple points. I can endure this loss. The second assignment came and I only lost one point. There was no way to fail the class now. But the journal was what I was least sure about.

"Your journal is not here."

I don't think the way I felt after hearing this was as strong as it should have been.

"Oh, here it is."

That was a relief. And my journal received full points. Everything went better than I had expected. Now I need to keep that up for the next two classes in the series.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Worthy of Praise?

Back in elementary school, I was often told how "cool" or "awesome" my drawings were. My jet powered monster truck was so cool that one of the kids in my third grade class wanted me to draw him one. I created a tiger that almost drew a crowd in the same class. In first grade, I drew every monster from the video game Doom II with an orange marker. I was sure I'd get in trouble for drawing things from a violent video game in school so I ripped it up. For reference, my name was written on the board for saying dork. Fart was also a dangerous word. I wasn't about to push the limits on the rules. I eventually told my dad about the Doom drawing and he said he would have wanted to see it.

Spelling tests were a more objective thing I excelled at. I'm pretty sure I didn't make a mistake on a graded spelling test until seventh grade. I can't remember it, but it was probably a devastating moment. At least I was finally free of my "must get every word correct" bonds. Doing something a certain way or trying to get specific results because that's the way it has always been can become a little stressful.

I was generally proud of my work for some time. Eventually, things changed. School assignments became less about visual creativity and dealing with strict rules like spelling. There were more essays, book reports, research papers, and speeches than ever. My standards for myself remained high but the work I was assigned was rarely anything I felt I was skilled at. I hated a lot of what I came up with. I rarely thought anything was good enough but sometimes I'd be told it was great. My thoughts of "wow, this is dumb" would be rocked when the assignment would be returned to me with a positive comment from the teacher written on it.

My work didn't always exceed my expectations. The William Beebe research paper I worked so hard on in eighth grade was given a C. Sometimes it was the opposite. A story about having trouble building my computer I wrote for English class in the 15 or so minutes before class started got me a B.

I'm not saying I hate being told that my work is good when I don't like it. It's mostly a positive feeling, but a strange one. I don't know if it was being commended often early in life that made me aim so high or if I was always that way. There are plenty of tasks where I take the "good enough" approach. This paragraph will be an example of that. Endings were never my strong suit.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Laptop Keyboards

I don't spend a lot of time thinking about laptop keyboards. I don't spend a lot of time thinking about laptops in general. I own one, but it's old, I got it for free, and I don't use it often. The keyboard on it is adequate. I press the keys and letters, numbers, or symbols appear on the screen, assuming there's something running on the computer which receives information from key presses.

I recently had the displeasure of helping my sister choose a laptop at Fry's Electronics for the second time. This time, her demands weren't quite as strange. I didn't hear anything about not getting a laptop with a keyboard that didn't have spaces between the keys. She did have a wacky request regarding the buttons on touch pads that I didn't completely understand. This freedom in keyboard choice meant I walked around and poked some keys on all of the different types of keyboards. 

A typical laptop keyboard.
 The keyboard in the image above is the type on my laptop. It works but I prefer taller keys that move farther when they are pressed as would be found on most desktop keyboards. That would make for a very thick laptop so I can understand why nobody does it. A lot of recent desktop keyboards have these shorter, flatter keys. I guess it's supposed to be more "modern" or people were complaining about their keyboards being thicker than their monitors. Maybe they're cheaper to produce.


I think these are called Chiclet keyboards.
This not so good thing is not far off from the Apple keyboard I am typing on right now in CT 235 at PCC Sylvania. The Apple keyboard has slightly more rounded corners. The issue with Apple products is that they tend to emphasize rounded corners and shiny things over functionality. The issue with many other companies is that they tend to be influenced by/copy whatever Apple does. My sister's previous concern about spaces between the keys isn't an issue for me. I have no idea what her problem with that is. What I don't like about these Apple keyboards is how it feels like I'm jamming my fingers into a sheet of metal over and over. There's no cushion in the key movement. The non-Apple Chiclet typing devices are a bit softer. I don't think I'd find my wrist in pain after using them but they are far from optimal.


No!
I don't get this one. I don't know why it exists. It's easily the worst of the bunch. Imagine typing on a cheap calculator except it costs several hundred dollars and you have to do much more than enter equations for a little while. I didn't spend enough time with it to say more, which I regret, looking back on it.

I can't remember what type of keyboard the first computer my sister chose has. I think it was the Chiclet type. The Fry's employee disappeared for quite a while to look for the laptop or whatever it is Fry's employees do when they're supposed to be looking for something. I wandered around for several minutes and eventually returned to see that the same Fry's guy was doing something else and there was no boxed laptop in the hands of either present family member. After standing around for quite a while, another employee returned with the computer.

All was well until we arrived at home and and started using the laptop. The keyboard was peeling off. There was glue holding the keyboard on and the glue was not functioning properly. This made no sense to me. Why was the keyboard designed like this? Why was the glue on a supposedly new computer not strong enough to do its job?

The next day, my sister returned the first laptop and bought a different one. The new one came in one piece. This storm has blown over and I probably won't ever do this much thinking about laptop keyboards again.